They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. The perception of him flooded her being. I'll show you the Shamien; and we can talk all we want. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. Presently McClintock came in. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid. The woollen-draper looked at his watch.
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